


The Laws of Defence

by jrn_jpg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter in Denial, Horcrux Hunting, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mutual Idiocy, POV Alternating, Pining Sirius Black, Teacher-Student Relationship, Time Travel Fix-It, is idiots to lovers a tag?, not really an age gap, theres like a year between them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28749525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jrn_jpg/pseuds/jrn_jpg
Summary: The one where Harry gets sent back to 1977 to finish off Voldemort before he could get started, but he didn’t anticipate having to mark homework in between horcruxes.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Harry Potter
Comments: 19
Kudos: 102
Collections: Waiting for updates





	1. PROLOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new fic no one asked for with one of my new favourite (if slightly awkward) ships! I LOVE Harry travelling back in time and Sirius being a complete disaster and falling for him, so spoiler alert! Sirius Black falls for our dear Professor Potter :))))  
> Updates will be every couple of weeks to give me a chance to keep on top of work and this and my other fic so keep your eyes peeled

_‘I’ve found a way for someone to go back. To change the past. Kill_ him _before he kills thousands of us.’_

_‘It has to be you, Harry.’_

It always did, didn’t it?

_‘What about you? What about Teddy?’_

_‘He’ll be fine, we’ll look after him. Remus and Tonks’ll be here soon anyway, won’t they?’_

If it even works, they might. But time was funny like that, wasn’t it?

_‘So you’ll do it? You’ll save us all? Again?’_

_‘Again.’_

_Harry placed his hand on the hourglass Hermione had found._

_He looked up at his best friends’ faces one last time._

_There was a good chance he’d never see them again._

_Teddy was sitting on Ron’s hip, eyes shut, fast asleep. Oh, to be one and oblivious to the reality of the world._

_He’d likely never see Teddy again, either._

_Fuck, he wished Hermione had already found the way home._

_There was a flash of white light, and Harry knew the year 2000 no more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely am not writing this instead of my other fic Let's Not Be Too Hasty???? I don't know what you're talking about?????


	2. SEPTEMBER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marauders head back for their seventh year at Hogwarts, but who is the new DADA teacher?

**SEPTEMBER**

‘Pads.

 _Pads_.

HEY, PADFOOT!’

As per-fucking-usual, James’ screeches could be heard over the unholy din of Platform 9 ¾. Shouting about what? Sirius had no idea. He’d literally just seen the boy - had lived as his brother-in-all-but-blood for little over a year now. Sirius had spotted a wonderful looking blonde Ravenclaw (who had definitely never been subjected to his charms before; he could tell by the way she hadn’t tried to slap him as he’d approached), and had wandered over to see if he could corral her into a quiet compartment whilst dear Jimbo said goodbye to Effie and Fleamont.

Sighing, Sirius turned to face him. ‘And what might you be braying about, my dear Prongs?’

‘We gotta go - sorry, Frannie - we gotta go find Moony and Wormtail and get to our compartment.’

‘Righto, see you later, Freya.’ Sirius winked at the blonde and chucked his arm around James’ shoulder, completely missing the ‘ _It’s Florence_ ,’ from behind them. Oh well, there was always the chance that she’d catch Sirius’ eye later.

The two boys shouldered their way onto the train, past all the firsties crying with their parents, and second to fourth years pretending like they don’t also want to cry, make their way to their chosen compartment, and try not to clout each other on the head with their trunks as they stow them away.

Sirius had expected at least Remus to be sat waiting for them, with a mere ten minutes to go until the train left and he was one to get there early, but the compartment was empty. A brief, blissful calm before the storm that was to be their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Still, it wasn't more than two minutes before Peter and Remus joined them, and the Marauders were ready to go for one last time.

‘I can’t believe you tore me away from Francine like that,’ Sirius complained, once the train had got going. He was staring wistfully out of the window, his face the perfect act of deep betrayal for those who didn’t know him well. Unluckily for him, James, Remus, and Peter all knew him better than he knew himself.

‘Oh, leave it, Pads, she was a total airhead.’

‘Hey she was a Ravenclaw! She could’ve been smart!’ James scoffed at that. ‘She could’ve been the new Mrs Black! You never know, Prongsie. We’re not all stuck on the first girl we met at Hogwarts.’

‘If we were, you’d be stuck with Dorcus,’ Remus said from behind his book.

Sirius spluttered in outrage at the thought. ‘ _Dorcus_? You’d never catch me with that witch.’

‘Erm, technically, they’re all _witches_ ,’ Peter piped up. ‘We do go to a magic school.’

Sirius just rolled his eyes at him and continued his stare out of the window. He didn’t hugely care about Fiona or whatever her name had been, just like he never cared about any of them. He was quite the serial dater; girls, boys, and everything in between. Sirius would go on a couple of dates (read: a couple of make out sessions in the many broom closets around the castle) before cutting them off and never looking their way again. Sure, he got a couple of slaps from disgruntled exes every now and then, such was the life of Hogwarts' favourite bachelor. He’d worked hard on his reputation and he wasn’t about to ruin it by - ugh - _settling down_ like James was so hellbent on doing. Honestly, ever since he’d set his heart on Evans, he’d been a goner.

But Sirius couldn’t sulk for long; the train journey up to Hogwarts was a prime time for then to get started on some pranking plans.

The four boys had finalised prank number four when their compartment door opened.

‘So, Sirius Black. Have you heard the news?’

‘Ahh, Marlene McKinnon! My second favourite punk. What the hell are you talking about?’ Sirius turned to face her.

‘You haven’t? Excellent.’

Marlene McKinnon was one of the Gryffindor girls in their year and, by all accounts, Sirius’ favourite. She was a badass witch who didn’t take shit from anyone, _especially_ Sirius, and was the only one who could beat him in a fist fight. It was an impressive sight, to see all five foot four of her tiny-frame-enormous-afro combination squaring up to Sirius’ six foot two when no one else would dare.

‘Come on, Marls, don’t be mean.’ Sirius fluttered his eyelashes at her. Marlene was just about the only person at Hogwarts (other than the Marauders) that it wouldn’t work on.

‘Alright. New teacher is hot, s’all I heard.’

‘DADA? That's sick!’

She nodded, ‘Hot and _young_.’

Well shit, Sirius thought to himself, this final year might not be as boring as I thought.

***

Sirius was going to kill Marlene. All that talk about a hot new teacher interrupting their prank planning time on the train and they weren’t even here yet!

They were halfway through the Welcome Feast and their new DADA Professor was yet to be introduced to the eager students of Hogwarts. Rumours of them being "hot" had spread like fiendfyre, but that was all anyone knew. Sirius was sure he could see a mischievous twinkle in Dumbledore's eye every time someone mentioned the new professor, but that old man was always up to something.

No, it wasn't until the beginning of dessert that the doors of the Great Hall opened.

The new DADA professor was truly one spectacular specimen of man. He was young, like Marls had said, and didn't seem like he'd long been out of school himself. He looked a little shorter than Sirius was, but still just under six foot, but was much broader across the chest. It was like the man wrestled giants for a living; even through his robes, rippling muscles could be seen. He had thick, messy black hair tied up in a knot on top of his head, and his eyes were such a startling bright green that Sirius could see them from halfway across the room. To make matters even worse (or better, depending on your point of view) Sirius could spot the tips of a tattoo peeking out of his collar. A sodding tattoo. This man was determined to kill him, it seemed.

He was the sexiest man Sirius had ever seen. He absolutely had to have him as his next conquest and find out what the hell his tattoo was.

Only, the mystery professor seemed to have no idea that he was dripping in sex appeal. He was struggling to meet the eyes of any of his new students, especially the seventh and sixth years - presumably because they were so close in age - and was scratching at the back of his neck with one hand. Unfortunately, this just highlighted the man's rippling biceps, and made everyone stare even harder.

'Ah, Professor Granger. You made it.' Dumbledore broke through the silence.

Almost immediately, the Great Hall filled with whispers of the man's name. ‘ _Professor Granger_! _What a dish_ ’, ‘ _Gorgeous Granger, more like_!’, ‘ _He's so buff, do you reckon he's single_?’

Gorgeous Granger cleared his throat and started walking towards the head table, silencing the room again and fixing all eyes on him. ‘Sorry, professor, it was busier than I expected getting here from, erm, well, getting here.’

‘Not to worry, my boy. You’re just in time for some pudding.’ Dumbledore turned his attention back to the students as Granger reached him. ‘That’ll be all, these cakes won’t eat themselves after all.’

The hall erupted into noise, every single girl and a surprising number of boys trying to work out how best to ask him out. Unsurprisingly, Sirius was one of those boys.

He had barely even turned around to face his friends before Remus interrupted him. 'Nope. No way, Pads. We're not taking part for this one.'

'Oh, come on, Moony. What's the worst that could happen?'

'Absolutely not, Sirius! He's a teacher!'

'But this is the perfect opportunity for me to act out my all-time plan!'

Remus just looked at Sirius, disapprovingly. It was a step up from James who was holding his head in his hands, some brother he was.

'What's your all-time plan?' Peter spoke around a mouthful of food, making Sirius jump. He’d been sat next to him and had completely forgotten he was there. Hell, Sirius hadn't even noticed the appearance of dessert on the plates in front of them. It also seemed that Peter had completely missed the dramatic entrance, worthy of the great Sirius Black, of one smokin’ hot Professor Granger.

'I'm glad you asked, my dear Wormy. Behold! The beginning of Operation: Padfoot Wants to Kiss a Teacher!'

***

It wasn’t until last period on Monday that the seventh year Gryffindors found themselves making their way to the Defence classroom for their first lesson with Professor Granger. They'd had to trawl through Friday, the whole weekend, and Monday morning before they could set eyes on him again.

Sirius, of course, was vibrating with excitement. He'd be planning his first move since the end of the feast the previous Thursday, and was even more confident than usual.

It was simple, really. The plan was to be his usual, irresistible self, with some obscenely pornographic suggestions thrown in, and Gorgeous Granger wouldn’t be able to resist him.

Of course, best laid plans, and all that. When they got into the Defence classroom, Professor Sexy wouldn’t even look Sirius in the eye. He almost didn’t notice at first, but after no less than three of Sirius’ Best Flirting Jokes went without comment or threat of detention, it was obvious that Sirius was being ignored. It was as though looking at him would cause the room to burst into flames or the floor to collapse beneath them. And Sirius hated every second of it.

He’d never admit to it out loud, but being ignored was like a slow and painful death for Sirius Black. He thrived on the attention, lived only to be in the spotlight. To have Professor Gorgeous Granger ignore that, and him, so spectacularly was like a stab through the heart. So, it was safe to say that Sirius hadn’t been paying the strictest attention to what Granger was saying.

‘... and that should see us off nicely until the Christmas holidays. Does anyone have any questions so far?’

 _At last, an opportunity_. Sirius thrust his hand in the air and spoke loudly over the rest of the class. ‘I have a question, sir.’

For the first time since Granger had entered the Great Hall, he made eye contact with Sirius. Green on grey. It felt like he’d been electrified. ‘Mr Black, was it? Go ahead.’

‘Yes. Question one, what’s your favourite sweet? Two, are you single? And three, do you like boys?’

The corner of Granger’s mouth twitched upwards, as if he found it hard to keep his expression strictly professional. Sirius made it his mission right then and there to destroy the man’s sense of professionalism. One lewd comment at a time.

'Alright then, Mr Black. One, treacle tarts. Two, yes, I am. And three, yes I do.'

Sirius almost cheered at the attention he was getting, but no sooner had Granger answered him, did his attention move on.

'If no one else has any _useful_ questions, I'd like to start with the theory of spell chains...'

And that was that. Sirius' five minutes of fame had been over in thirty seconds. James nudged him with his shoulder and Remus leaned forwards from the desk behind to pat his shoulder.

'Hard luck, mate. Guess you'll just have to move on from Professor Pretty,' James consoled him.

'No way. Every cock-orientated person in this school is after him, and _I'm_ going to be the one who gets him.' Sirius' eyes were still fixed on Granger, as if by staring him down he might give in to his charms. There was still plenty of flirting material in his arsenal, and it seemed that Sirius was going to have to pull out the big guns if he wanted to be a step above the rest of these goons.

'Alright, Pads. Just don't come crying, yeah?'

‘No need to worry about me, my dear Prongsie, I'm a big boy. Now all I need to do is show Granger exactly _how_ big.' With a wiggle of his eyebrows at them both, James and Remus groaned and moved away from him. 'As if I'd be the one crying between me and Granger, anyway.'

'You don't even know his first name, Pads.'

'Eh, details. I'll find it out some time between the second and third date.'

James rolled his eyes, but his best friend was back to grinning at him and all was right with the world again.

Taking out some parchment for the first time that period, Sirius glanced back up at Granger. The movement was almost habitual at this point. But Sirius hardly noticed, because for the first time that lesson, Professor Gorgeous Granger was staring right back at him.

 _Electrifying_.

***

‘Alright, so for homework I want you to finish reading the chapter we’ve gone over on chain spells and do me six inches summarising the theory behind them.’

‘I can give you more than six inches, Professor Gorgeous.' Sirius spoke just loud enough for those around him to hear, but the flickering of Granger’s eyes suggested that his comments had been heard across the room too.

‘If anyone has any questions about the chapter, my office hours can be found on the notice boards in your common rooms. I can help you, but I’d much rather you help each other. Facilitate each other’s learning. I promise, you’ll learn faster and do better.’

Granger walked back around to behind his desk and tucked his wand back into the holster on his exposed forearm. If he hadn’t been sat down, Sirius’ knees would’ve given way at the sight of it.

‘If no one else has any questions for today, I think we've just about reached the end of the lesson today. Alright guys, I’ll see you all on Thursday.’

There was a scrabble to gather books and get out of the room for some free time before dinner. Sirius, seeing an opportunity for some more Outstanding Flirting, hung behind.

‘Coming, Pads?’

‘In a minute, Rem. Got a question to ask our dear Professor Granger.’ Remus rolled his eyes as Sirius waved him away.

‘Professor,’ Sirius put on his best drawl, it had never failed him before. ‘I was wondering if you could help me with something…’

Granger startled at the sound of Sirius’ voice and, Sirius was most pleased to see, appeared to get flustered the second their eyes made contact. Perhaps there was hope of Sirius’ most prized Operation being completed yet.

‘Mr Black. Erm. I didn’t see you there. What- uh. What can I do for you?’ There was an utterly delicious blush making its way up Granger's neck, tinging the skin around that marvellous tattoo pink. Sirius almost licked his lips.

‘Well, you see, sir. There's something I've been wondering. And I was curious if you could help me out?’

The blush made its way up to Granger's cheeks, he seemed properly flustered now. He reached up behind his head again, as if he was hoping to scratch the blush away. Sirius couldn't believe his luck: did the sexy new DADA teacher possibly want to jump Sirius’ bones as much as Sirius wanted to jump his? If only James was here, he’d never believe a score as big as this unless Sirius was doing it right in front of his face!

'And, erm, what- what might that be?' Every step forward Sirius took, Granger seemed to take a step backwards. It was as though Professor Sexy couldn't _bear_ to get any closer, in case he might not be able to control himself. Little did Granger know, not controlling himself was exactly what Sirius wanted him to do.

‘What’s your tattoo, sir?’

‘What?’ The question seemed to catch him off guard.

‘Your tattoo. I can see it just at the collar of your robes.’

‘Oh. Erm. Well. I don’t see how that’s any business of yours, Black.’

‘It’s not at all, Granger. Just your favourite student asking a little question, s’all.’ Sirius gave his most winning smile, one that never failed him when it came to wooing whichever hopeless sod he’d set his eyes on that week.

‘ _Professor_ Granger, please, Mr Black.’

‘Oh, of course, _professor_.’ Sirius gave a mock bow.

The corners of Granger’s mouth twitched up again; he was definitely trying his best not to laugh at the comments and jokes Sirius was making. It made his stomach give an uncomfortable lurch.

‘Alright, Black. I’ll make you a deal.’ Sirius practically began to vibrate with excitement. Who’d’ve thought he’d make such a headway with Operation: Padfoot Wants to Kiss a Teacher on just day one? ‘I’ll answer your questions about my tattoo at the end of the school year-’

‘Deal!’

‘ _If_ , you get an O in Defence Against the Dark Arts.’

 _Oh, Gorgeous Granger_. This was going to be too easy. ‘Deal. _Sir_.’

‘Don’t act so cocky, Mr Black. I don’t intend to be a pushover.’

‘Not at all, _professor_. You’ve just made a deal with Hogwarts’ current duelling champion.’

Granger’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Had he not seen the trophy in the school’s trophy room? ‘Is that so? You’d better impress me then.’

‘Oh, of course, Professor Granger, sir.’ Sirius gave a salute.

‘You’d better impress me then. I take it you can see yourself out?’

And with that, Granger all but ran away: up the stairs at the back of his classroom that Sirius knew would lead to his personal office. Granger was flustered, that was for certain, but his resolve against Sirius’ charms appeared to be much stronger than anticipated. Progress had been made, today’s first battle was over, but there was still the war to be won.

Still, the day hadn’t been completely wasted: he had a promise to find out exactly what the tattoo was at the end of the year. Now, of course, all he had to do was get an O in his Defence NEWT. How hard could it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fortnightly (every two weeks) posting will resume as of now, but I thought waiting a full two weeks after only 163 words was a bit cruel  
> comments & kudos feed writers and inspire new chapters! enjoy xxx


	3. OCTOBER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The seventh year DADA class practise their non-verbal spells, and Harry gets started on his horcrux hunt.

**OCTOBER**

Going back in time to 1977 to stop Voldemort before he rose to power the first time seemed like a great idea. That is, until Harry realised he’d be a professor at Hogwarts, he’d be teaching his teenage parents, godfather, and Remus, and he’d have to be marking their homework.

Voldemort didn’t even know who he was yet, and still Harry was being tortured.

The first month had been pure hell. Seeing his parents and all their friends as teenagers and happy and alive. It was hard to look at them all.

All the stories he had heard from his Sirius, and his Remus, back (or was it forward?) in his third year right up to the Battle of Hogwarts, about his parents fighting as flirting, it was all true. He was witnessing it himself, in person. It made him dizzy to think about it, so keeping his eyes averted from all of them was undoubtedly for the best.

Of course, for a bonafide drama queen like Sirius Black, Harry’s ignoring him only inspired a doubling down of attention-seeking.

Harry’s DADA lessons for the past month had been packed full of suggestive comments, invasive questions, and some downright dirty flirting. It had taken almost all Harry’s effort not to react to any of it, to treat Sirius like any other student he had. If truth be told, it was starting to wear Harry down. This was Sirius, his _godfather_ , it was practically incestuous that he was now flirting with Harry.

But... it wasn't like Harry wasn't enjoying the attention.

In fact, he was really quite enjoying it. Eighteen and a half years of fighting in a war he'd had no choice over, and now the tiniest bit of romantic attention was enough to get him all flustered. (Even if it was Sirius, which was so weird to think about that Harry resolutely didn't). It certainly didn't help that Harry was only just a year older than some of the seventh years he was teaching, by pure chance of having to re-do his own seventh year. He was barely old enough to be a professor, he'd got the job based solely on his memories of the future, and young enough that students like Sirius felt confident enough to flirt.

Having had no experience himself, it wasn't surprising he had no idea how to cope with flirting. Hell, he'd had one awful date with Cho in fifth year, and one brief and boring relationship with Ginny in sixth. There was no real way he could ever know how to act when up against the smooth-as-silk pick-up lines of Sirius Black.

Then there was the awkward fact that Sirius was his student, and Harry had a position of power and responsibility as his professor. Way too much responsibility for one eighteen-year-old to have over one almost seventeen-year-old.

Sighing, Harry focused down at the eggs piled onto his breakfast plate. He had the seventh years for Defence first thing after this, which meant being subjected to Sirius' comments yet again. There was no amount of Hogwarts standard eggs that could psyche him up well enough for this.

'Harry, dear, you're awfully quiet this morning. Is everything alright?'

‘Sorry, Professor Sprout. Yeah, I’m fine, just got a busy day ahead of me.’

‘Defence with the seventh years, correct?’ Her eyes were twinkling at him. ‘And call me Pomona, dear, honestly.’

‘Alright. Pomona.’ Harry smiled back at her. ‘And yes. I don't know how I'm supposed to control them, they're like a pack of wild animals.'

She chuckled. 'That they are, dear. And youth certainly isn't on your side here.'

Harry hummed his agreement and shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. He knew they were supposed to be good - all Hogwarts food was - but his nerves for his lesson with the seventh years and his conflicting feelings about teaching his parents, Sirius, and Remus, turned the eggs to cardboard in his mouth.

'You know, dear, I've heard some rumours from the students. Mr Black seems to have quite the crush on you.'

'Really? I had no idea.' Harry did, in fact, have some idea, but he settled for some more eggs instead of sharing that.

'Hmm. You had no idea?'

'My own years at school taught me to ignore ninety five percent of the rumour mill. Chances are it's not true.' Perhaps the bacon would be as good as he remembered it. Or was it, as good as it will be?

'Pomona, Harry, is this about Mr Sirius Black?' Professor Flitwick - Filius - chimed in from Harry's other side. 'I've heard the same myself, from James Potter himself.'

Harry tensed up at this. His father was saying Sirius had a crush on him? Sirius' flirting wasn't just meaningless flirting? Did - and Harry couldn't believe he was even thinking it - did Sirius have a real, genuine, _serious_ crush on him? His own godson?

Although, Harry supposed, he wasn't exactly his godson anymore, was he? Just like he wasn't the son of the Lily Evans and James Potter sat in front of him arguing over the breakfast table, was he? That Harry Potter disappeared without a trace back (forward?) in 1998, and Harry had no idea what his little time travelling adventure would mean for the future if he ever decided to go back. If he ever _could_ go back.

When Hermione had first approached him with the plan to go back in time to before the First War and stop Moldywart before he even really got going, he’d have been a bit of a dick to say no. Of course, it had to be him saving the world again, that was how his luck in life went. Everyone else who could’ve gone was either dead or had too much left in the future to take care of. Sure, he had Teddy, but if everything went to plan, then Teddy would soon have his parents resurrected from the dead to take care of him themselves.

Glancing back up to Gryffindor table from his plate, Harry tried hard not to think about how one half of Teddy’s said parents was currently using a textbook to block flying bits of toast coming from his own father and godfather. As if the past wasn't causing enough headaches as it was.

It hadn't helped that he had yet to complete any of the tasks he'd been sent to the past _for_. He hadn't taken care of any horcruxes, hadn't had a chance to investigate which Death Eaters were where, and hadn't tipped the DMLE off to any attacks. No, lesson plans and homework and detentions now took up all of his time. Apparently, Sirius and Remus hadn't been exaggerating in 1995; the Marauders couldn't go long without a prank or five.

If Harry had tuned back in to the conversation between Filius and Pomona, he might have caught them discussing the staff’s current betting pool on how the two; if they’d get together at all, how long before Sirius gave up, and how drastic Sirius would get with his wooing attempts. But he didn’t, so he’d never know.

He remained lost in thought the whole way from the Great Hall to his classroom, going over and over in his mind which horcruxes needed destroying and planning how to do so. It was a miracle he didn’t trip, with how distracted he was. If Harry had been paying attention, he'd have noticed this, too.

Although, it helped that one member of a group of four marauders was following closely behind, hidden under an invisibility cloak he’d borrowed from his brother-in-all-but-blood, moving all trip hazards out of the way with murmured flicks of his wand.

***

As much as Harry tried not to glance over at them, his eyes always seemed to stray back to the four boys at the back of the room. It was a mindfuck to see his father alive and joking around with Remus, Sirius, and - ugh - Pettigrew, but it was more of a mindfuck to see Remus and Sirius without the mental and physical scars he knew them to have back in the future. And Sirius without all those tattoos. Hell, it was a mindfuck to see Pettigrew as anything but a Death Eater!

Still, it made an extra effort not to stare over at them more than strictly necessary, especially with rumours going around of Sirius’ _infatuation_ with him. He kept an eye, of course, as teachers should on troublemakers. Unfortunately, this also meant he often saw things he’d rather not see teenage versions of his father and godfather doing.

Sirius Black, it seemed, was currently doing his best to deepthroat his quill. Whilst looking directly at Harry.

Remus and Peter, at least, had the decency to hang their heads in shame and refuse to be connected to the act. James was minutes away from pissing himself with silent laughter. It would be better for everyone if Harry put a stop to this sooner rather than later. For the students’ sake, of course. Not because he could feel an uncomfortable blush making its way up the back of his neck at the thought of Sirius’ lips wrapped around something else.

Harry folded his arms across his chest and lent back on his desk. ‘Mr Black, see me after class, please.’

Almost immediately, the room filled with noise and jeers that Sirius had got himself into trouble. It cheered Harry up to see that Sirius also went a bit pink, but it was for the best that he'd never know what it was James whispered in Sirius' ear right at that point. All he knew was it inspired a cheeky wink at him from Sirius. The blush was back up his neck.

'Alright, alright. Let's get some focus back, please.'

There were still some titters, and Harry was holding out no hope of getting any of the Marauders' attention back, but it was good enough.

'Okay. We've been doing lots of revision on everything you've done so far in Defence, but focusing solely on _non-verbal spells_. Now, for the rest of today, we'll be splitting into pairs and I want you to bring out your worst jinxes.' That made sure to get everyone's undivided attention. The corner of Harry's mouth turned up and he folded his arms across his chest. 'No need to worry about anything too deadly. Based on previous successes you lot have had with non-verbals, I think you'll all live.'

Harry pushed himself off the desk and walked his way between the desks.

'Davis, you're with Johnson. Smith, Miller. Potter, you're with Lupin. Pettigrew, Abbot.' Sirius made a protest at this but Harry ignored him and carried on. He matched the rest of the class mostly with those they were sat with - non-verbal spells were much easier to get the hang of when you were familiar with your opponent - but mixed the houses as much as possible.

'Meadowes, you're with McKinnon. Black, you're with...' Harry trailed off. He seemed to have run out of students. 'Where's Miss Evans? I could've sworn...'

'She had to leave, professor. Women's troubles,' said Dorcas Meadowes.

Harry felt his face flush at that, the reminder that his mother was very much a teenager and very much dealing with teenage girl things made him feel queasy. He couldn't even listen to Hermione talk about it. It had made their months of camping very awkward for him and Ron.

Of course, Lily having left now meant that he had an odd number of students. And, having left Sirius till last, meant that either he was going to have to be a trio, or pair up with Harry himself. He knew he couldn't trust putting Sirius in a trio with James and Remus, none of them would get any work done, and there was no way Pettigrew was getting anywhere near him.

Making his decision quickly, Harry stood up straight and spoke confidently. 'You'll be with me today then, Mr Black. Miss Meadowes and Miss McKinnon, please see that Miss Evans catches up on today's work, and I hope she's, er, alright.'

Sirius seemed to practically glow upon hearing that he'd be paired up with Harry for the lesson. It really wasn't going to help any of these rumours that there was something between them, and it was only going to encourage more bad flirting from Sirius.

Everyone moved into their assigned pairs and Sirius ambled his way over to the front of the class where Harry stood.

'No funny business from you, Black. We're duelling and that's it.'

'Oh, but _sir_! You know I'm an excellent dueller, surely I can multitask here?'

Harry flushed at the reminder of the conversation they'd had at the beginning of term, and how Sirius had cornered him after class and almost demanded to see Harry's tattoo. No way was Sirius, his father, or any of their friends going to see that. It had been a bit of an impulse decision during the Christmas holidays of eighth year; Hermione and Ron had come with him and 'Mione had cried when she saw what it was. Not to mention that Harry was Sirius' _teacher_. Hermione would murder him if he even _thought_ about returning any of his flirting, it would be a total abuse of power. He hadn’t commandeered her last name for nothing: aside from being muggle and unrecognisable, it was his constant reminder of why he was there, and why he couldn’t afford any distractions. Sirius, obviously, hadn’t got that memo. 

'So, you won that trophy without speaking a single spell, did you?' Harry said, one eyebrow raised and determined to keep the upper hand.

The tips of Sirius' ears went pink at that. 'Well. Not silently, no.'

'That's what I thought.' Harry smirked. 'Come on, Black. Give me the worst jinx you can think of. _Silently_.'

Sirius’ expression immediately became one of deep concentration. Harry knew he was now determined to be the first in the class to master it, just to prove him wrong and show off to him. Harry wouldn’t put it past him. He had seen Sirius duelling with Bellatrix just before he’d fallen through the veil, so he must be good to have kept up with Riddle’s number one. Until he hadn't.

 _Focus, Potter. You can't let a teenager best you, especially not_ this _teenager_. Knowing Harry's luck, Sirius would mistake it for some kind of misguided attempt at flirting. He didn't need to add any more fuel to the rumours.

Sirius' frown grew steadily deeper as he focused on his chosen jinx, and Harry wanted nothing more than to smooth out the crease between his brows. Then, without warning, Sirius flicked his wand and a jet of white light shot at Harry. With all his training facing Moldywart, Harry deflected it easily. But nothing could prepare him for the look of pure joy on Sirius' face.

'I did it! I bloody did it!'

The previous silence of the room was broken in an instant, with Sirius' cries and then James' cheers for his best friend. If Harry hadn't been so proud of his godfather, he'd have been pissed at them both for being so loud in a lesson.

'Yes, yes, well done Mr Black. But one silent jinx that I blocked instantly won't help you much in a duel now, will it? Everyone back into their pairs. We still have half an hour and I don't intend to let you go early.'

The look of joy on Sirius' face morphed into one of defiance at Harry's words, ready for a fight.

'Come on, Mr Black, show me how good of a dueller you can really be.' Harry gave a sly wink to show his teasing. The tips of Sirius' ears tinged pink again, his face still frowning, but he seemed to glow at the attention. Perhaps a wink had been a little _too_ much like flirting, there.

'Of course, _professor_.'

***

Much to Harry’s annoyance, Sirius had been the only one to manage non-verbal jinxing. Really, it wasn’t going to do his pride any good _at all_. Everyone else had tried hard, solidly, for almost twenty commendable minutes before resorting to mumbling under their breaths and whispering when they didn’t think Harry could hear them. Funnily enough, when a class is supposed to be in silence and doing _non-verbal_ spells, whispers and mumblings stand out a bit more.

Still, it wasn’t bad for their first attempts at more advanced spells. Easy ones were for sixth years, but seventh is where it all got kicked up a notch. It was only fair the level of spellcasting reflected that. Which Harry made sure the class all knew.

‘Really, you were great for the first attempt at some much harder spells. And I’m not just saying that; do you think I managed non-verbals in my first lesson? Or even my third?’ Sirius smirked at that, the git. Of course, he’d managed his very first attempt.

Harry walked around the class handing back their workbooks from the previous lesson. It was a new muggle thing he’d been introducing in DADA, and Dumbledore said he’d consider them for the whole school if they worked well.

‘Mr Black, I believe I asked you to stay behind just a minute? There was something I want to talk to you about.’

Low taunts followed Harry’s request, but Sirius hung back without complaint.

‘What’s going on, prof?’

Harry said nothing, just held out Sirius’ workbook. The boy hadn’t even noticed that he hadn’t handed his back. He’d taken them in to mark some homework last week and had found something rather embarrassing tucked in the back of Sirius’. Judging by the expression on his face, Sirius knew immediately what was going on.

‘Would you please explain to me the scrap of spare parchment I found tucked in the back pages of your workbook, Mr Black?’

It was a note, passed between Sirius and James, where Sirius had described in vivid detail how hot his arse was when he had been showing the proper duelling stance last week. It had made Harry hot and flustered for the better part of an hour before he could calm down again.

‘W-What? Oh, erm. That was James, sir.’

‘Mr Potter? Is he not dating Miss Evans?’ Sirius looked confused at this. Had Harry got it wrong? He’d always been told that his parents got together in the summer before seventh year, had he changed that by coming back?

‘James and Lily? They’re not going around.’ Sirius gave a bark of laughter. ‘Unless they’re keeping it a secret from everyone. James’ been mooning over her for years, no way would he keep it a secret.’

He looked thoughtful, though, and Harry was reminded just how clever his godfather actually was. He was really brilliant when he wanted to be, perhaps there was a secret here.

‘Right. Well. Anyway. I don’t want you passing any more notes like this, Mr Black. I’m your teacher; it’s inappropriate.’ Harry crossed his arms over his chest, acting like a proper authoritative teacher, even if he didn't really feel like one.

'Of course, professor. No more passing notes in Defence.'

'No more passing notes _at all_ , Sirius. You'd best get to your next lesson.'

Sirius left the room without complaint, but not before Harry heard him mutter ' _you won't be my teacher in a few more months_.'

Harry shivered. Sirius Black, it seemed, would be the death of him.

***

Harry had decided to wait until the Halloween Feast before he got rid of his first horcrux. Ravenclaw’s Diadem had been at Hogwarts since Riddle’s interview with Dumbledore some decades before, but between settling in to teacher life and avoiding Marauder pranks, Harry had yet to get rid of it. In waiting for the Halloween Feast, Harry made sure that every student would be busy stuffing their faces with sweets and chocolate, and far away from the hidden room on the seventh floor.

After the terror of the Room of Requirement last time, Harry had made it a personal mission to learn how to properly control fiendfyre during his own eighth year at Hogwarts. There would be no more Vincent Crabbes as long as Harry was in control.

Harry reached the seventh floor corridor and the tapestry of trolls learning ballet and began to pace in front of that blank stretch of wall.

 _I need to get into the Room of Hidden Things_. _I need to get into the Room of Hidden Things_. _I need to get into the Room of Hidden Things_.

Even though Harry was more familiar with the room than most in this time, seeing the door materialise in a seemingly solid stone wall was still a sight to behold. The Room of Hidden Things itself was, remarkably, exactly as he remembered it to be before the fiendfyre destroyed it during the battle.

Corridors and alleyways of centuries of items, discarded by year after year of students and professors, dating back all the way to the founders, and Helga Hufflepuff’s creation of the Room. This Room had held more influence over the sways of Britain's wizarding world since its creation. Even in Harry’s own knowledge, in the past fifty years (or was it now thirty?) the Room had played host to a horcrux. It had hidden away a seventh of Tom Riddle’s soul. It had borne a way into Hogwarts for several of Voldemort’s followers, which in turn had led to the death of the greatest wizard of the past century.

Even the memories of the past - which still, technically, had yet to come to pass - were almost too much for Harry to bear.

 _Get in, get out. Find the horcrux. Don't think about the future you left behind_.

If Harry remembered correctly, he just needed to take a left down this corridor, past the tower of footstools that looked like they might fall over at the slightest nudge. He walked past a table stacked high with several partially-shattered chandeliers. They seemed to be stacked according to age, but even with Harry’s limited home design knowledge, he knew that they were from the early 1700s at the very latest. The bust of the ugly wizard was tucked behind the broken vanishing cabinet that Draco Malfoy would fix in sixth year. Harry almost smiled at the memory, but not quite.

There were no delusions, anymore, about the kind of man Dumbledore had been in the years Harry had known him. He had, as Snape had accused him, raised Harry like a pig for slaughter, using the love of his parents and the naivety of Harry's muggle childhood to settle his own debts. Perhaps Harry should have listened to the sorting hat in first year and been sorted into Slytherin. Perhaps then he would have been more cunning, instead of filled with ridiculous Gryffindor courage. Perhaps it wouldn't have taken him, ready to die, into the Forbidden Forest.

Perhaps if he had been more cunning, he wouldn't have gotten so many of his friends killed.

But that was why he was here in 1977, was it not?

Even still, Harry’s memories of Albus Dumbledore could hardly be used to judge the same man twenty years before actually meeting him. Harry’s sharing of select memories upon arrival into the past, and his extensive knowledge of how to get rid of Voldemort, had been more than enough to convince Dumbledore that his current plans were a load of shit.

Sighing, Harry turned down yet another corridor, narrowly avoiding knocking over a pile of dusty books that looked like they should be moved to the Restricted Section of the library. If only he could send a message to Hermione, let her know there were books she had yet to read just lying here. But the Room of Requirement Hermione knew had been destroyed in 1998, along with all the books hidden inside it. She would never know. Ron would never be subjected to her rants about the books’ contents, and how rude it was of Harry to wait so long to tell her they were here.

 _Stop it. Stop thinking about them. Get it, and get out, or you’ll miss the whole feast_.

Harry knew that Hermione would never rest until she found a way to bring him home from the past, and that everything he was doing was to give them a better future, but he still missed his friends. Ron had been planning to propose just a few weeks before Harry left, and he knew that Mrs Weasley would make sure it wasn’t a long engagement. He just hoped to make it back in time to give the best man speech, and share the day with his best friends.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Harry strode around the next corner. There it was: the ugly bust with an ugly crown, tucked behind the ugly Vanishing Cabinet.

How bizarre that so much of history happened to find themselves sat next to each other. It was almost poetic.

Drawing his wand, Harry wasted no time in performing the spell for fiendfyre, keeping it carefully contained in a tight sphere around the bust. If he did it well enough, there would be nothing left of Rowena Ravenclaw’s missing diadem but a charred piece of leather, although Harry suspected the Grey Lady wouldn’t mind in the slightest. The bust would also be destroyed, but that was one casualty of war Harry wasn’t going to cry over.

Harry muttered the counter-curse and the fiendfyre immediately went out. The Room almost felt like it breathed a sigh of relief, thanking him for getting rid of the darkness.

Smelling only faintly of smoke, Harry tucked the broken diadem into his robe pocket, smiled to himself, and made his way down to the Great Hall. It had taken almost no time at all once he’d stopped moping around, he would probably even be in time for dessert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I think about the gem that is Sirius Black, the shorter he gets in my head. Is this an issue? It feels like a simultaneous issue and non-issue. A Schrödinger's Sirius, if you will.
> 
> Comments and kudos make my day/week/month/year xoxo


	4. NOVEMBER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sirius' birthday, and some important information is overheard.

November was _by far_ Sirius’ favourite month. Everyone was still riding the sugar high of Halloween, it was still early enough in the school year to not worry about exams, and, most importantly, it was his birthday.

Growing up, his birthday had only served as a reminder to Walburga of how disappointing he was each year, but since starting Hogwarts, he was annually showered in gifts and attention. It was everything he knew he deserved.

Still, for two months now Professor Granger had yet to do any more than look at him for more than a few seconds. Operation: Padfoot Wants to Kiss a Teacher was failing spectacularly, and if there’s one thing Sirius Black doesn’t do, it was fail.

‘Oh, come on, Pads. So, a snooty teacher doesn’t like you, who cares? What about those Hufflepuff twins in fifth year who fancy you? Bet you could have them both at the same time if you asked nicely enough.’

James had been doing his best to distract, between asking out Evans eight times a week, but it was hopeless. Sirius had never been less interested in the prospect of a threesome with twins, as willing as they might be. _There must be something wrong with me_ , he’d never been stuck on the same person for so long. Must be the flu.

Remus, of course, wanted no part in the whole thing. Said he was glad Granger had been ignoring Sirius, said it wasn’t right for a teacher to go for a student. As if that had ever stopped him from scoring before; the thrill of the chase was the best part! And the higher the prize, the better the satisfaction.

‘The Hufflepuff “twins”,’ he made fake quotation marks with his fingers, ‘are nothing more than cousins who look vaguely similar, a bit how Granger looks like you with green eyes and better bone structure.’ James scoffed, Sirius ignored him. ‘And anyway, he doesn’t _not like_ me, he just can’t admit how much he _does_.

‘Pads, you are so completely full of _shit_ ,’ said Remus, rolling his eyes.

‘Moony, dearest, light of my life. The only thing I hope to be full of is Professor Granger.’

It was awful and crass, and an incredibly cheap shot that made James, Remus, and Peter all groan and gag, but Sirius wouldn’t be himself if he hadn’t taken it. They’d get over it by the time they reached the Great Hall for breakfast, and Sirius grinned the whole way down.

It was his birthday, after all, the badge on the front of his robes reminding everyone who looked at him. They had to be nice to him eventually.

***

The Great Hall on the morning of 3rd November was, to be expected, complete chaos. He got presents from all the boys, of course, and the newest broom maintenance kit from Quality Quidditch Supplies from Effie and Fleamont had arrived for him before they’d even woken up. He’d received boxes and boxes of chocolates from Merlin knows however many people, and he couldn’t count how many times he’d been approached by just about everyone from third year and up. 

The house elves had even been bribed to make all sorts of cakes as well as the usual eggs and sausages and bacon for the Gryffindor table. The whole morning was absolutely _bitchin'_ , if he could say so himself.

'I don't know how you do it, Sirius,' Peter said. 'All those girls fawning over you.'

Sirius rolled his eyes. If anyone was fawning here, it was Peter. 'Hardly, Wormy.'

'No more than usual, ey, Pads?' James jumped on him and flung his arm around his shoulder.

'Exactly, Prongsie. So, there's no need to get too jealous, Pete.'

'Except it hasn't been usual lately, has it?' Remus chimed in over the top of his book, eyes laughing and cheeks full of cauldron cake.

Sirius stuck his tongue out at him. He'd hoped they wouldn't notice his lack of Friday night dates every week, and the lack of make-out related detentions from McGonagall.

‘Just because I've not been flaunting it, doesn't mean I haven't been going around here and there.’

'Mhm, whatever you say, Pads. You know we have the map though, right?'

 _Damn. Forgot about that bastard parchment_. 'Why am I suffering this blasphemy today? Of all days! James!'

'Sirius!'

'Why am I suffering this blasphemy?! It is my day of birth and I must suffer like this.'

'True.' James nodded and turned to Remus. 'By the honour of Marauders, no Marauder may joke or prank another Marauder on any day of their birth, holiday, celebration or other such occasion of merriment. Today is Messer Padfoot's day of birth and you must not...'

Sirius tuned him out. Once James got rambling on about the Code of Marauders that they'd come up with in second year (just after they'd discovered Moony's secret) he wouldn't stop for anyone. And changing the subject had been Sirius' only hope against Remus' unwavering need for answers. If they all started questioning why Sirius hadn't had a single date - or even been slightly interested in anyone - since the beginning of the year, Sirius would be in big trouble.

Luckily for him, the Great Hall was distracted once again by a singular late post owl. It seemed to be heading to their end of the Gryffindor table, but there were only seventh years sat there and Sirius didn't recognise it. It was a huge barn owl, downy feathers flecked with a hundred different browns and greys and yellows, and it was carrying the biggest parcel Sirius had ever seen a singular owl carry by itself.

Sirius could only hope it was for him. It was his _birthday_ , after all, he was allowed to hope for such things.

Only trouble was, everyone who loved him enough to gift a present that huge was currently surrounding him, and definitely wouldn't get it delivered via post owl. But, loe and behold, the owl did a graceful swoop down and dropped the parcel in front of Sirius' plate. It was pure chance that it missed the jugs of pumpkin juice, tea, and coffee.

Thoroughly distracted by the overdramatic flourish of the parcel being dropped in front of him, Sirius almost missed the owl making its way back through the hall. It swooped low once again as it reached the head table, but instead of making its way back up to the open owl windows and to the owlery, the bird landed on the chair of a teacher. Professor Granger’s chair, to be exact. Now, Sirius wasn’t the best at common sense, but it gave him a strong suspicion that the owl belonged to Granger, and didn’t that now throw a wand in the cauldron.

The owl’s eyes remained fixed on Sirius as it accepted pieces of bacon from Granger, who was feeding the bird almost absentmindedly, but what Sirius couldn’t understand was the complete lack of attention from Granger himself. It was as if he hadn’t even noticed that his own owl had just delivered an enormous parcel to Sirius, _on his eighteenth birthday_ , in front of the entire Great Hall.

‘Well? Aren’t you going to open it?’ James pulled his attention back to the table in front of him.

‘Course I bloody am,’ Sirius replied.

Sirius ripped into the paper to reveal a cardboard, but very solid, box. Unable to contain his excitement at this unknown, unexpected birthday present, Sirius moved his hands immediately to take the lid off, only to be stopped by Remus’ hand on his arm.

‘Don’t you think we ought to check for dark spells? Enchantments? It might be from your parents.’ Remus’ face was the picture of worry and, as much as Sirius didn’t want to admit it, he might be right.

‘Alright, alright. Go ahead, Moons.’ Sirius gestured widely at him.

Remus took out his wand and set about casting a series of diagnostic spells on Sirius' brand-new birthday present. It was rude, really, that Sirius couldn't just jump right in, but he knew first-hand what his parents were like. And sending a cursed box disguised as a present definitely wasn't the worst they'd ever done to him.

Remus cast no less than four - four! - diagnostic charms, three of which Sirius had never even heard of, before declaring it safe for opening. Sirius had to commend the loyalty of his friend, really, three Auror level spells to keep Sirius safe was above and beyond.

Now there was nothing between him and the contents of the box, Sirius almost couldn't open it. Hands shaking, he reached out towards the lid. James was bouncing in his seat, Peter had paused in his scrambled egg shovelling, and Remus had even put his book down to focus. Taking a deep breath, he took the lid off the box.

It was a... baby motorbike?

What the fuck?

Was this someone's perverted idea of a prank? Calling him a baby?

'Wait, Pads! There's a note!' James thrust a scrap of parchment under his nose. If James hadn't spotted it, there was no way Sirius would have; it would've gone straight in the bin with everything else. Including the weird toy motorbike.

Shaking his head, Sirius read the note.

_Happy birthday, Sirius._

_Use the charm “engorgio metallum'' to revert the motorbike to its original size, but DO NOT use it inside Hogwarts grounds. Dumbledore would have my head._

_It might look muggle, but you’ll find a few surprises with the buttons on the dashboard._

_Use them wisely._

_P.S. I figured three spare helmets would be appreciated, no?_

Sirius was gobsmacked. A motorbike? And a magical one, at that?

Who the hell was this from, anyway? No one knew he was looking to buy a bike, as far as he was aware. Not even James knew, as Sirius knew the git wouldn’t be able to keep from telling his parents, and there was no way Effie would trust him to drive a motorbike.

And three spare helmets: one for each of the Marauders. Whoever it was from, obviously knew him better than anyone else did, so how could Sirius not figure out who it could be?

He had thought it was Granger after seeing the owl fly over to him after delivering the parcel, but it must have just been one of the school owls. Sirius knew if he was an owl, he’d make a beeline for Granger too. But there was no way Professor Gorgeous Granger could possibly know him well enough to have figured out he wanted a motorbike? When none of his best friends could? Hell, he'd never even met the bloke before his dramatic entrance at the start of term! Sirius knew, he'd definitely have remembered a face like that.

But, if Sirius had been paying attention to the head table still, he might have noticed a certain professor keeping a close eye on the reactions of one birthday boy at the end of Gryffindor table, and if he liked the present. Alas, Sirius, oblivious as ever, did not notice.

***

Somewhere between lunch and Herbology, a plastic golden crown had been wedged onto his head and charmed not to fall off. Sirius was thrilled with it, he had the perfect bone structure and hair texture to suit wearing a crown, and it was a damn shame he hadn’t been born into actual royalty. A waste of perfect genes, if you were to ask him.

The badge and crown combined, as well as the fact that Sirius had been crowing about his birthday being on the third of November for his whole seven years at Hogwarts, he didn’t even get any stick from the teachers about it.

Still, he hadn’t had DADA yet, and there was no telling what Professor Perfect’s reaction would be. The bloke was only just older than the seventh years, so he could hardly blame them for going all out for a friend’s birthday. And considering he’d given Sirius that deal with his tattoo, and all the flirting Sirius thought there had been... it was a headfuck. It could go either way.

So, of course, Sirius took it upon himself to proceed into the Defence classroom in the best possible spirits, and singing his favourite song from the top of his lungs:

_'-en I kissed the teacher_

_Leaning over me_

_He was trying to explain the laws of geometry_

_And I couldn't help it_

_I just had to kiss the teeeeeeacher'_

Sirius dragged out the last word as he walked through the door to Defence, making sure Granger heard every single word of his favourite song.

'Pads, we don't even study geometry. How do you even know what it is?' Remus asked. It was true, he had no idea what "geometry" was, other than some muggle thing in an ABBA song. Pureblood training was good for nothing when it came to muggles, other than teaching how supposedly idiotic they were.

'Alright, the laws of defence then. How's that? I’ll kiss the teacher when he teaches me the laws of Defence Against the Dark Arts.' Sirius waggled his eyebrows, and looked around to catch Granger’s eye to see his reaction. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d just have to kiss the teacher explaining the laws of DADA, after all.

But Granger’s expression was unreadable, it was like he hadn’t heard what Sirius had said. He hadn’t reacted like he’d heard him. It was like he was wearing that bullshit pureblood mask that all the Slytherin's seemed to have perfected on day one. Walburga and Orion had tried to teach him before he started at Hogwarts, but Sirius was always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. It was just another source of contempt between him and the people who gave him life. Another reason for them to hate who he was.

'Alright, everyone settle down please. Lots to cover today.' Granger was talking, facing the blackboard at the front of the room already, writing down today's lesson. Had he not heard the song?

'We'll be moving on to two of my favourite curses. My favourite purely because they are so horrific, but satisfying if you can do them well.' Granger turned around to face them all, but still ignoring Sirius. 'They're not deadly, but an effective use of either of them might just save your life in a pinch.'

The hell was this? Granger was just... saying nothing. Not even looking Sirius in the eye. Not even saying a small “happy birthday”. He couldn’t have missed the memo; there had been cake at breakfast, cheers with every present, and Sirius was wearing a badge and crown, for Merlin’s sake! Okay, maybe not _cheers_ with every present, per say, but there was significant attention to each one he opened!

Sirius tried to concentrate back on the lesson, but it was almost impossible. He just couldn't get over the fact that Granger was ignoring him. Him! On his birthday, of all days.

'Both are great and important to know, but since the tongue twisting curse was one that saved my life once, I think we'll start with that one for now.' He turned back to the blackboard and began drawing out the wand movements of the curse and describing the effects.

‘ _Langlock_ is the incantation of the curse, its origin currently unknown-’

Unknown, Sirius’ arse. Granger had the look of a liar on him; he knew exactly where the curse came from.

‘-but it works on humans as well as more tangible spirits, such as poltergeists.’ Lily raised her hand at that. ‘Yes, Miss Evans?’

‘Does that mean it would work on Peeves?’

Granger smiled. ‘It does. I’ve used it on Peeves myself. Sometimes he just won’t shut up, you know? It doesn’t prevent him from making rude hand gestures, though. So just bear that in mind.’

Finally, some good fucking news! Sirius turned in his chair to see James’ reaction which was, unsurprisingly, the same as his own.

‘Just _think_ of what we could do with that, Prongs. The pranking possibilities are endless!’

‘I know! I vote we go after Snivellus straight awa-’

‘Alright, _alright_! No point making any plans when none of you have mastered the curse yet, right?’

Granger interrupted the outburst of noise, but there was a low rumbling through the room, agreeing with him. Even Sirius could admit, the bloke had a point. But, with Sirius as excellent at Defence as he was, he was sure it wouldn’t take him long to master this new curse, too. They’d finally get Snivellus to shut his face!

They spent the entire lesson working on just the _langlock_ spell - which was very hard, even Sirius could admit it - but at the end, only Lily and Remus had managed to perform it successfully.

‘Not to worry, Prongsie,’ Sirius whispered as they were leaving the classroom. ‘I’m sure we can convince him to put the Prefect badge down and get Snivelly with us before dinner. Hard to eat with a tongue that won’t work properly!’

James’ eyes sparkled with just as much glee as Sirius knew was in his own. It was shaping up to be a bloody good birthday after all.

***

Sirius was walking back from a detention with Minnie when he came across Granger outside of the classroom again. Honestly, it was like the bloke was avoiding him or something, which no one in their right mind would do. _Obviously_.

He was talking with Dumbledore. It was one of those whispered conversations that really should be happening behind a closed door and multiple silencing charms, but Sirius sure wasn't going to complain. He was an eavesdropper extraordinaire, after all.

‘… you sure I never told you the exact location before, my boy?’ Dumbledore asked Granger.

‘I’m sure, sir. You apparated us straight onto the side of the cliff and by the time we got back to the castle it was too late to worry about exact locations.’

‘Yes, and I’d prefer if we didn’t go over that particular evening.’

Granger nodded solemnly at him. ‘I agree, professor. If I never talk about that night again, it’ll be too soon.’

Dumbledore chuckled at this. ‘I’m quite sure. And I believe I told you to call me Albus, Harry.’

‘Right. Sorry, prof- Albus. Sorry, that’s way too weird. I only ever knew you as my Headmaster…’

The pair had walked too far away for Sirius to hear, and he’d be exposed if he tried to follow them. If only he had James’ cloak! But what the hell had Granger and Dumbledore been talking about? Some secret location on the side of a cliff? And Granger’s name was _Harry_? Wasn’t that just absolutely vital information!

Sirius pegged it back to the common room to share what he’d heard with the rest of the Marauders, and let them know the first name of his future husband of course.

He burst through the portrait hole after shouting the password at the Fat Lady since the moment she came into view, not caring that the password for each common room ought to be kept secret for a reason. Sometimes there was common sense in Sirius’ brain; this was not one of those times. Panting and out of breath, Sirius made his way over to where James and Remus were sat on the sofas; Remus reading and James conveniently angled to ogle at Lily.

'How was the lovely Minerva?' James asked, as Sirius approached the sofas, though his eyes were still fixed on Lily.

'Oh, wonderful, as usual. I'll woo her eventually.' Sirius grinned at him. Remus rolled his eyes and went back to his book. This, of course, was unacceptable for Sirius; the centre of attention had to be maintained at all times. He threw himself down onto the sofa where James sat, and decided on the most dramatic way to give his breaking news. ‘You'll never guess what happened though, Prongsie.’

‘What?’ James’ attentions were finally forced from Lily to Sirius.

‘I saw Granger having a very interesting conversation with Dumbledore, the kind that should've had at least two privacy charms around it.’ And didn’t _that_ just get him the total undivided attention of them both.

‘What?’

‘What were they talking about?'

‘Not sure, they were quite cagey about it.’ Sirius gave a shrug, nonchalantly.

‘Well what did they say?’ Remus actually put his book _down_.

‘Something about a secret location on a side of a cliff.’ Sirius shrugged. ‘It’s either a teacher sex dungeon or a secret organisation hideaway.’

Remus scoffed. ‘Surely you can’t think those are the only two options, you berk.’

‘Well what else could it be?’

‘Maybe they’re looking for something?’ James chimed in, though he was back to being half distracted by Lily and her stupid swishy hair.

‘No idea.’ Sirius shrugged again, and then remembered the reveal of Granger’s name. ‘You’ll never guess what I _did_ find out though.’

Remus looked at him over his book. James continued to moon over at Lily, and Sirius seriously considered getting a new best friend that pays him more attention.

‘His name is _Harry_.’

Sirius isn’t sure exactly what happened, but James’ eyes went wide and all of a sudden there was a lot of red in his face blocking everything else from view.

‘Did you say Professor Granger’s name is Harry?’

Lily Evans. Stood before him in all her glory, hands on hips, green eyes blazing. James looked like he could have fainted at the shock of it all, but Sirius stood his ground.

‘Damn right I did, Evans. Professor Harry Gorgeous Granger.’

Her eyes soften, which was such an out-of-character act that Sirius doesn’t quite know what it meant. ‘I’ve always loved the name Harry. This is obviously a sign that we’re meant to be.’

‘Woaaaah.’ _Who’s this bitch coming in and stealing my man_? ‘I think the fuck not, Evans.’

She shot a wink at Sirius and stuck her tongue out at a particularly grumpy James, and made her way back over to where Marlene and Dorcus were giggling at her. As nice as girls were to look at and snog, Sirius didn’t think he’d be able to figure out exactly what the hell was going on in their heads at any point in his life.

‘Sorry, Prongs. Looks like your future wife has her sights set on Sirius’ future husband.’ Remus, of course, was finding this all hilarious. Catching James’ eye, the two of them pounced on Remus, knocking his book to the floor and causing him to screech in protest at the loss of his page more than the attack he was under. How dare Remus suggest that their future spouses were really destined to _not_ be with them?

It didn’t take long, of course, for James and Sirius to get bored of their attack, and retreat into their own chairs claiming a victory. Remus even managed to convince Sirius that he really should make a start on his charms essay that was due the next day; it was a miracle.

With his two best friends distracted, no one in the common room noticed the secret smiles being sent by a certain Marauder to a blushing red-head. No one noticed when the smiles were returned whole-heartedly. No one had noticed the lack of flirting and teasing between the two of them so far in that term, that it had been saved for stolen moments all alone. No one but James had noticed the hint of “ _I’ve always loved the name Harry_ ” being a wonderful suggestion of a baby name from Lily. His girl was planning ahead and he loved every second of it.

‘Wait where’s Pete?’ Sirius hollered through the room, looking up from his essay.

James rolled his eyes. ‘Said he was going down to the kitchens for a snack. That was an hour and a half ago.’

‘Hah! Typical Wormtail. He’s probably got his tail caught in a cheese trap!’

‘You know we should probably go and look for him,’ Remus began in his Prefect Voice.

‘ _You know we should probably go and look for him_ ,’ James and Sirius repeated, in absolute mock precision of Remus.

'Well we _should_... what if he really is stuck in a trap and gets caught by Mrs Norris?' But Sirius looked over at him and saw the glint in his eyes.

'Remus fucking Lupin. You're right. Let's go make that cat find our Wormy.'

And so, with great whoops of laughter, three of the Marauders were on their way to find the fourth. Who was indeed stuck in a mousetrap. And was indeed at great risk of being eaten by Mrs Norris. Luckily for them all, James got to the trap first and saved Peter's life. All was well for another night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hands up if you spotted the line that makes up the title of this fic!! it all makes sense now!  
> "engorgio metallum" is the HP spell "engorgio" (for making things bigger) and the Latin word for metal, so it literally means make the metal bigger :) and yes, it *is* Sirius' magic motorbike, of Godric's Hollow and giving to Hagrid fame! he had to get it from somewhere, right?  
> please enjoy this lovely month of November, presented most humbly in the month of March  
> comments and kudos bring me joy xoxo


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